His Royal Love-Child - Lucy Monroe

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to introduce himself.

      She’d known who he was of course and even how he preferred to be addressed within Scorsolini Shipping. “Yes, Signor Scorsolini. I’m Danette Michaels.”

      “Angelo speaks highly of you.”

      “I’m glad. I loved my job with his company.”

      “But you wanted a change of venue, to see some of the world?” he asked with a blue gaze that could probe into the very depths of her soul.

      “Yes.”

      He nodded. “You realize that my good friend’s reputation in my eyes depends a great deal on your performance here.” He didn’t say it unkindly, or as if in warning, more like he was confirming something she already knew.

      But it was news to her…welcome news. It gave her a target to aim for and said that, far from awarding her special treatment, he would expect more from her than his other employees. The words were like honey to her ears and she lapped them up. “I won’t let either of you down.”

      “I do not doubt this. I am sure that because you came to work for me on his recommendation, you will work twice as hard to prove that he was smart to recommend you.”

      “You’re right, I will.” And it was a vow.

      He smiled then, giving her her first taste of mind-numbing physical awareness. “Don’t work too hard. But I do not believe you will let either of us down.”

      And in proving him right, she made the job her personal triumph. Every success she achieved was a gift she consciously gave to both men who had chosen to believe in her and subconsciously gave to herself. When she had been promoted and given her own office after only four months because of her diligence, Marcello had called to personally congratulate her and Angelo had sent her an e-mail thanking her for making him look so good to his friend.

      It had all been very feel good and laid a strong foundation for her growing confidence as an independent woman. Marcello asking her out had added to that confidence though she’d definitely been leery of him to begin with.

      Danette worked on her sales projection report, determined to make her boss glad he’d promoted her and given her a private office. If there was a part of her that wanted to impress the president of the company, too, well, that was to be expected.

      After all, he’d arranged for her to get her current job on the recommendation of his friend and she didn’t want him to regret that choice, either. It had nothing to do with the fact that every time she saw him, her breathing and pulse rate went wacko.

      She wasn’t interested in risking her heart again and for sure not with a man of Prince Marcello Scorsolini’s playboy reputation.

      “Do you realize the time, Danette?”

      Her head snapped up at the sound of the company president’s voice coming from her open doorway.

      “Signor Scorsolini!” She jumped up from her chair, looking around her, trying to focus on the now while her mind was still stuck on sales figures.

      The hall outside her office was on dimmed lighting for after hours and the silence surrounding them told her that she was one of the few people left in the building. The small clock on her desk said it was eight o’clock.

      Her mouth rounded in an, “Oh…” and then she gave him a rueful grimace. “No wonder my legs feel like they’ve petrified in one position.”

      “You work too hard.”

      She laughed as she stretched, realizing as she did so that her entire body was seriously cramped from sitting at her desk for so long. “That’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think? Your workaholic hours are legendary around here.”

      “I do not expect my employees to give up all life outside of work in order to serve Scorsolini Shipping.” He watched her stretch with disturbing intensity. “It is not the same for me. I have more reasons than most company presidents to make sure my business is a success.”

      “What do you mean?” she asked curiously as she smoothed her hair with a nervous hand.

      The flirtatious facade she had created to deal with men deserted her in his company. She was lucky to string two syllables together that made sense when he spoke to her.

      “The people of my country rely on the income from Scorsolini Shipping worldwide to maintain a standard of living in line with the other industrialized nations.”

      “You mean Isole dei Re?”

      “Yes, naturally.”

      She didn’t want to sit down again, but she felt exposed standing there behind her desk. She compromised by busying herself stacking the papers related to the sales projection report. It was the way he was looking at her…not at all like a boss looks at his employee.

      More like a predator sizing up its prey.

      She searched her mind for something to say. “I don’t understand how Isole dei Re can be so reliant on this division of Scorsolini Shipping. There are only a handful of your countrymen and women employed here.”

      “You know this how?”

      “I asked.”

      “It is interesting that you care.” His still predatory gaze probed her speculatively.

      “Everything about the company I work for interests me.”

      Marcello moved further into the room. “And the man you work for, does he interest you, I wonder?”

      “You didn’t just say that.” She stared at him, shock coursing through her.

      He smiled, his blue eyes full of knowing amusement. “I did, but we will leave it for the moment and I will answer your other question. While I do not employ many of my country’s subjects, half of the net profits of all Scorsolini companies are paid into the national treasury and used to maintain and improve the country’s infrastructure.”

      “You mean things like hospitals?” she asked, fascinated. It had never occurred to her that the royal family gave back to their country on such an overwhelming scale.

      “That and roads, schools, police and fire departments…the many things citizens of larger countries take for granted as being paid for by tax dollars.”

      “Wow.”

      “The money must come from somewhere.”

      “And Scorsolini Shipping is it?”

      “Along with what tax dollars we do receive in revenue and the other enterprises of our country. My older brother, Tomasso, has recently supervised the discovery of lithium mines on Rubino. He has taken Scorsolini Mining and Jewels to an unprecedented level.” His voice rang with pride in his brother’s achievement.

      “Funny, that’s what Angelo Gordon told me you had done with the Italian arm of Scorsolini Shipping.”

      “My father and older brother are pleased with my efforts.”

      “They should be.” And then she blushed at the vehemence of her words.

      But he smiled, apparently pleased by her words. “My older brother, Claudio, has recently informed me that when he ascends to the throne, he and Tomasso have agreed that I will take over the entire shipping company while Tomasso maintains his position as head of Scorsolini Mining and Jewels.”

      “Did that surprise you?”

      He nodded, coming closer, his presence filling her senses. “Normally the second son would take that position and I would either continue as I am or take Tomasso’s position, but because he has taken that side of our family’s holdings so far and my brothers and father are content with my performance here, I will be given the honor.”

      “That’s wonderful! I suppose you celebrated by working a few extra twenty-hour days,” she teased, knowing

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